For My Father
by Andrithir
Summary: You are something I could never be, you are a symbol of hope, an ideal to live by, a goal to strive for... I can never be those things, but as your son, I will give everything for you to become what you are meant for. -Ryan Samuel Potter
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone, just a few quick things.**

**I'm ball-parking physical description in regards to age.**

**And I'm ball-parking in the time in which things are set.**

**XXxxXX**

**2035**

The sleek grey Audi hummed as Ryan Samuel Potter drove towards the Leaky Cauldron. He was so happy that he had finally gotten leave to go home and visit his family again. Work abroad had been difficult, to say the least.

Ryan's occupation is a CIA Special Activities Division, liaison officer with the magical world. The path to how he got into the CIA, now that was a bit more difficult to explain. But it could be summed up into this; Ryan attended an Australian Grammar School, and was home-schooled in magic by his Aunt Hermione. After graduating, Ryan had applied for ASIO, as he realised he wanted to be as far away from the British Wizarding World as much as possible. From ASIO, he was given the opportunity to be transferred into the CIA as a liaison between the two respective nations. But by some unknown method (which was actually expected), the CIA and ASIO had learnt of Ryan's _hidden_ talents, and unveiled a new world for him to see.

That _unseen_ world, was absolutely breathtaking. Every mythical creature or being that had been mentioned in old literature existed or had existed in this world. Ryan had spent months in China with the monks and the High Elves of Europe, perfecting the arts of wandless magic and studying the powers that lay beyond the infinite universe.

The Wizarding world foolishly thought that itself invisible. They were so wrong, the powers of the world carefully monitored each magical society, and the one that presented the greatest threat had been and still is, the British Wizarding World.

Even after the defeat of Voldemort at the hands of Harry Potter, Britain still remained bigoted and remained in the firm grip of purebloods. That being said, most muggleborn find it difficult to find a life after Hogwarts and have to reintegrate themselves into muggle society, probably why Aunt Hermione and Harry insisted that Ryan be sent to an institution far away from fame and bigotry.

Oddly enough, Ryan's mother, Ginerva Potter nee Weasley, seemed to thrive in the spotlight. _How dad fell for mum, I'll never know_, the youngest Potter child thought. Out of all his siblings, he never had the best of relations with his mother, and for that fact, he was more distant to the rest of his family.

But Harry, he loved Ryan with all his heart. Ryan was practically the spitting image of his father, except he was taller (having received the correct nourishment from Grandma Molly), his face was slightly slimmer, he didn't wear glasses, his eyes were blue and his hair was neatly cut. By all definitions, he was considered to be a strikingly attractive man. He didn't have the looks that would make a woman drool on the spot, but he did have the looks to linger in plenty of people's minds for a very long time.

Pulling up the car into a CIA facility, Ryan turned off the engine and decided to walk on foot the rest of the way to the Leaky Cauldron. The two locations were quite close to one another, the reason being plainly obvious to see. Inside the CIA owned building, would be a team of muggleborn and squib Tier One operators, to act as a contingency unit against any outbreak at the gatehouse of the two worlds.

From a distance equally far away, were the British Secret Service and their cadre of Elite. The Crown in particular wanted to make sure that should the Wizarding wold become a threat, it could be neutralised quickly and efficiently. Everyone who worked behind the scenes knew how close a total war was.

Ryan's black conservative suit, fluttered against the English winter winds, forcing him to button up the jacket in order to conceal his customised M57 SOCOM sidearm.

Walking along the road, and moving through the crowds at lunchbreak, Ryan had time to reflect on his career. For any wide-eyed child, they would have no idea what being a spy would truly be like. It was not like James Bond, where one could go around tearing up the place. Being a spy, or to be more accurate, an asset, required skill, efficiency and subtlety. But importantly, recognition was only within the organisation.

Walking through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron, Ryan's polished dress shoes clicked as he stepped across the tiled floor. Neville and Hannah really had cleaned up the place and turned it into something with more class.

"Hello Ryan," Hannah greeted with a smile, "I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Mrs Longbottom," Ryan said with a soft smile, "a pleasure to see you again."

"Looking sharp as always, how have you been?"

"I've been better," Ryan answered cryptically. Knowing that there would be gossipers in the bar, the young man preferred not to have his life published on the next edition.

The dark haired man continued to talk with Hannah for another few minutes before making his way into the crowded streets of Diagon Alley.

Ryan's attire made him immediately standout in the crowd. He looked avant-garde in this world, and many were throwing him looks because of it.

"That man dresses like a muggle," a woman said with contempt.

"Quiet! He's Ryan Potter," said another, clearly on Ryan's side.

"His father must be so ashamed of him."

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?"

_Stay calm_, Ryan thought,_ they don't know any better._

Without a moment's notice, Camera flashes flooded the streets… the paparazzi was here.

_I'm rarely in the country, and I'm still a bloody star… brilliant!_

"Mr Potter, how do you feel about your sister being engaged to Lucilia Malfoy?"

_Lily is engaged? To a Malfoy? And she's… a lesbian? Did not see that one coming. Wonder what Draco's stance is in all of this is._

Realising that the British Wizarding World is extremely bigoted and discriminative, Ryan decided to save his sister, instead of telling them that the truth, that he had no idea she was engaged.

"My opinion does not matter," Ryan began, "whoever my sister finds happiness and love in, I will support her."

"But it's unnatural!" Cried a few people.

"Does it harm you? Does it inhibit your free will?" Ryan asked.

A few people murmured "no."

"Then you have your answer."

"Where have you been Mr Potter?" asked a reporter from _Teen Witch Weekly_. "Your mother says that you're rarely in Britain, and you have distaste for the Wizarding World."

_I haven't even taken five steps and I'm already hounded by controversy. I'm so going to kill mum when I get home_.

"I will say this plainly," Ryan projected his voice into the crowd, "the Wizarding World of Britain is very far behind the rest of the world, in terms of cultural and scientific evolution. The fact that it's very difficult to find some privacy adds more insult."

Apparently the people surrounding him had failed to take the message. So Ryan just decided to leave and disappear into Gringotts.

Truth be told, Ryan never liked Diagon Alley, it looked so run down, the lack of order and symmetry seemed to only further imply that. He quickly tended to some bank transactions before Apparating to The Burrow.

_Mum and dad are giving these people way too much money_, Ryan thought. The Burrow was nothing short of a manor, equipped with its own Qudditch pitch and English Gardens.

Ryan didn't care all that much with what his parents did with their wealth, according to Wizarding Law; he would never get full access of the family vaults because the chances of him becoming Head of House would be extremely slim.

A car backfiring sound came from behind Ryan indicated that another had Apparated to The Burrow.

"Ryan!" Hermione beamed, "It's so good to see you. I haven't seen you in years! You're so grown up now!"

"Aunty!" Ryan cried happily, before pulling his father's best friend into a hug. He always viewed Hermione as more of a mother figure than Ginny, and that was saying something. What was more stunning was that the once bushy haired witch still looked no older than twenty-five. Hell, Ryan looked older than his own Aunty who was almost twice his age. The youngest Potter guessed that it had to do with the older generation's magic and _relatively_ stress free lives that allowed them to look so youthful.

She still had looks that women would literally kill to have. Last Ryan heard, Hermione was on the _Witches' Day_ magazine list of best women of the ages.

"How are you Ryan?"

"I've been better."

"Tired?" Hermione's tone of voice seemed to reveal that she knew a lot more about Ryan than he thought she did.

"A bit," Ryan shrugged.

"Should we go inside?"

"Not yet, I want to ask you a few questions," Ryan said, gesturing to a redwood bench, perched in front of the frozen lake.

"Okay, but let's be quick, I'm getting cold."

Hermione plopped herself onto the bench, while Ryan eased himself down, and let out a small sigh. It was a sure sign of his weariness.

"Ryan, what's wrong?" Hermione asked softly.

The young Potter pulled the gloves of his hand, and gently created a Patronus charm without uttering a single word. His creation was a thick mist with radiant tendrils that looked like electricity. The soft glow it cast gave warm to the area, melting away the snow and bringing in spring into the small patch of grass.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"My travels, but to answer your first question, everything is wrong."

"Why do you say that?"

"I can't thank you enough for sending me to Australia."

"Your father did, not me."

"You convinced him," Ryan paused. "Mum has been sending me owls, telling me to come home and find a wife."

"Your mother can be a bit difficult at times," Hermione said, treading carefully, "but she only wants what's best for you."

"Want what's best for me," Ryan muttered. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What happened between you and Uncle Ron?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "It just didn't work out between us. We tried to, but it just didn't work. One day I came home from work, and I saw that Lavender was in our apartment. I wasn't angry at him or anything. We'd been estranged for a long time before that."

"Did you ever want to have a family?"

"I have one right now," Hermione smiled, "that's why I'm here."

"My brothers and sisters are nice people, but James and Lily, they are a bit haughty," Ryan said, "I think they got it from mum."

"You never really connected with your siblings, did you?" Hermione asked.

Ryan nodded. "I was only close with dad, but sometimes, I think everything could have been so much different."

"What do you mean?" Hermione whispered, placing her slender hand on Ryan's arm.

"Do you love my father?" Ryan gazed at her, begging her to tell the truth. He had his father's uncanny ability to bend anyone to their will, with only a single gaze. Albeit, this time, Ryan's eyes were filled with pain.

"Yes, I love your father," Hermione said without hesitation.

"Then why didn't you two be together? You have so much in common, and you're best friends. The perfect mix for a long standing relationship. Dad and mum's relationship seems to be based purely on lust and Qudditch." Ryan said with a pained voice. "What makes it worse is that mum, looks a lot like the first Lily."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. "I thought he would never want someone like me."

"You know you're wrong."

"Your father told me that last year," Hermione said, her message laced with an underlying message.

"Well, I'm happy that it happened," Ryan smiled. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Since we're spilling our hearts out, might as well," Hermione said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Do you love me as a son?"

"Yes," Hermione hugged him immediately.

"You don't know how much that means to me," Ryan whispered.

"I know that there's a lot more bothering you, spill," Hermione said in her slightly bossy tone.

Ryan quickly thought if it was wise to tell Hermione everything. Well aside from his closest friends from school, his psychiatrist and father, Hermione was the only available confidant.

"You know how I'm a liaison?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, my travels were actually a part of an extensive training program. I visited every magical culture on the planet, and learned what they had to offer. I travelled to the forests of Germany, where I met the High Elves; they took me to the islands in the pacific where they trained me. The concept of time at Minas Illien is so different to ours. What felt like years of studying, was only a few seconds. The same could be said for the Shaolin Monks in China. I practiced their arts until I fully mastered it, and returned to this world a few moments later."

"Go on," Hermione urged.

"When I returned, I was posted for deployment. I've seen things, done things that would make the Death Eaters look like street punks."

"Whatever you did, you didn't have a choice," Hermione reassured. It brought a small measure of comfort to Ryan, though it was still very little.

"I don't know, but it got me thinking."

"Thinking abot what?" Hermione asked.

"I'm running around, 'saving' the world. But I can't improve the world that my family lives in," Ryan answered solemnly. "Lily didn't tell me that she was engaged. And I just found out that I have a nephew who is only a few weeks old."

Hermione breathed out softly, she understood the pain and anguish that Ryan was feeling. She knew that feeling all too well. Isolation and alienation.

"I feel like I don't really belong anywhere, except when I'm out in the field."

"You have a home here, with me, your father and the rest of your family," Hermione consoled, bringing in Ryan for another hug.

"Do I really have a family?" Ryan asked rhetorically, "Do I really belong? Do you know how hard it is, trying to settle into a _normal_ life?"

"Ryan, you know that a normal life was never meant for us," Hermione said, "but we make do."

"Look, aunty, when I go home, it kills me a little inside to see that I will never experience the same joys and happiness that everyone else experiences."

"What do you mean Ryan? You're scaring me," Hermione whispered.

"I've destroyed so many families, killed hostages to stop the enemy," Ryan answered, "I'm not like dad. Dad fights against the odds and still remains an exemplar. I've journeyed into the darkness, and now the light is blinding. It's just it feels like I'll never see retirement, that I'll never belong in some place safe."

"You will."

"Do you know why we are afraid of the dark?"

"A primal sense, because we don't know what lurks in it," Hermione answered.

"Exactly. I was afraid of the dark once. But I stayed in it, thrived in it. In time, I could see everything. In time, I was no longer I was afraid of the dark. Why? Because I am the predator that lurks in the dark, now. It doesn't help that the British Wizarding World is still so far behind. Every time I return, it doesn't help that I'm hounded by reporters, waiting to get some controversy going. I absolutely hate subjectivity."

"It is a blind world we live in," Hermione agreed.

"I had no delusions that I would be like James Bond when I signed up. How could you court a woman or sleep at all, after all you've been through?"

"You have no desire to just give in to your primal instincts?" Hermione asked, "or to find a family?"

"They drill it out of you," Ryan answered.

"Why don't you just leave?"

"It's not that easy," Ryan said, "a world like this, it haunts you. Leaving doesn't help. Not when you in this deep."

"So why did you join? You never gave me the full story," Hermione said. She never knew this much about Ryan before.

"Career choice at first. The job description sounded perfect. I get to be in both worlds."

"But nothing is perfect."

"Precisely, first I was a liaison, now I'm an asset."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what the difference between the two was. One a link, the other a killer.

"It's difficult to come back home, feeling so different, and finding out that everyone has moved on," Ryan finished.

"I know there is no easy solution to all of it. But believe me when I say you're doing good work. I'm proud of you, and your father is too."

"Thank you, that means a lot," Ryan said, pulling himself off the bench. Hermione stood as well, and gave him a quick hug.

"Come on, they'll be wondering why we took so long."

"Aunty, I would appreciate it if you told no one about this."

"Sure, it'll be between just you and me."

As they got closer to the door, Ryan noticed that something was wrong. By now, one of the Weasleys would've opened the door and greeted him.

"Is there something wrong?" Hermione asked, noticing Ryan's shift in body language.

"Something is not right," Ryan whispered.

"I'm pretty sure they're out in the back," Hermione reassured.

"Okay," Ryan frowned, his instincts literally roared at him to pull out his sidearm.

Hermione walked up to the door and knocked, but no answer came. She knocked again, but still no reply.

Ryan knew that his father would've placed powerful protection wards and charms on the estate. Simply unlocking the door with magic wouldn't work. Thankfully, there were more _conventional_ methods at Ryan's disposal.

"Move aside aunty."

"Ryan, I'm sure…"

"No one has answered," Ryan interrupted, "something is wrong."

Agreeing with his analysis, Hermione decided to draw her wand.

The High Elves had taught Ryan how to combine magic, with ballistics. Using this knowledge, Ryan pulled out his M57 and aimed it at the door. A quick burst was sufficient, the pistol coughed silently as specialised munitions tore through the enchanted door. Brushing aside the splinters, Ryan eased the door open, and entered the mansion.

He was welcomed be the redwood themed home, but everything was still.

"Stay close to me," Ryan said as training kicked in, "if anything happens, go get help."

Hermione nodded. "It seems everyone in the portraits ran."

With his gun levelled, Ryan slowly moved across the large foyer and into a corridor leading towards the back.

"I hear something," Hermione whispered.

Ryan heard it too. It sound like someone was thrashing about in pain, ripping the surroundings apart.

"It's coming from the lounge," Ryan said.

Since Hermione was in a senior position at the DMLE, it meant that she was an excellent duellist and absolutely no pushover. In Ryan's eyes, she would be helpful and not a liability.

The sound seem to grow louder, Ryan could hear the pots and vase crash onto the ground, while the furniture shattered. He could hear the muffled cries now. It sounded like Lily.

Upon reaching the closed door to the lounge, Ryan and Hermione stacked up on the right-side.

"Might be a good idea to call for back up," Ryan suggested.

"Already have, the Aurors are busy, but they'll be here soon."

"Not soon enough."

Sidearm in his gloved right hand, Ryan placed his left onto the door, willed a spell and felt it shatter, showering the room with splinters. He quickly entered the lounge and swept the area, a perfect textbook execution. To the right side of the room, was his family. Ginny was out cold, the rest of the Weasley clan and the Potters were incapacitated but conscious. They were all cowering in fear or watching Ryan in a stunned expression.

Before Ryan could say anything, he felt something hurl him across the room. A dull pain coursed through his body as he slammed into the wall and crash onto the timber floor. Ryan heard Hermione cast an array of spells as she fought against the assailant.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Hermione cried.

Upon hearing Hermione shouting, Ryan pulled himself up and peered over the couch. The sight he saw, shocked him to his very core. There in the centre of the room was Harry and Hermione having the most viscous duel he had ever seen.

Ryan's mind ran through numerous scenarios. He ruled out affair because everything that had transpired so far was far to elaborate for that. That left bewitched or something similar, left.

Quickly, Ryan casted a few disarming and binding spells. But Harry was faster, and swatted aside the attack.

_That's not going to work_, Ryan thought. He levelled his sidearm at his father, aimed for a non-lethal shot, and fired. Harry seemed to smirk as the bullet stopped in mid-air, before clattering onto the floor harmlessly.

_Onto plan c_.

Ryan holstered his pistol, ran across the room, and lunged at his father. Harry was unprepared for this course of action, and was sent crashing into the coffee table. The two proceeded to fight in a savage melee battle, using their surroundings to gain the upper hand. Hermione could only watch helplessly as the two most important men in her life fight with everything they had.

Harry grabbed a leg of the coffee table, and smashed it across Ryan's face, splitting the skin on his right cheek. Dazed, Ryan slackened his guard, allowing Harry to easily kick his son aside.

Ryan recovered, and struck at Harry with two punches and a side kick. Harry stumbled back, providing Ryan with a much needed opening. He casted a body binding spell, but swore when he realised that his father had countermeasures.

Resorting to the pistol again, Ryan aimed for another non-lethal shot. But Harry moved along a different path to what Ryan had predicted. It was too late now; the youngest Potter had squeezed the trigger.

With a wand, Harry would've had the shield charms powerful enough to stop a bullet. Without the wand, he was helpless to stop the bullet.

Ryan could watch in horror as his father's head bucked back under the impact, and the body careen lifeless onto the timber.

A deathly silence gripped everyone in the room.

"I-I killed him," Ryan stammered, he collapsed onto the timber, still looking at his father.

"Oh god, Ryan." Hermione was the first to move. She quickly wrapped her arms around Ryan and attempted to comfort the shell-shocked man.

"I killed him," Ryan repeated.

**XXxxXX**

**A/N: Well that's all for now.**

**Please review**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Dracconnis, that is high praise indeed**

**XXxxXX**

**2035  
England  
The Burrow**

Ryan sat on the front porch, his hands still shaking. He watched as healers cart his mother and the Weasleys away to St Mungo's Hospital, while he breathed in sharply.

_I just killed my dad! I just killed my dad! I just fucking killed my dad!_ Ryan's mind screamed.

The youngest Potter couldn't bear going back into the house, he couldn't bear to see his father's lifeless body again.

_What have I done? I've killed my dad._

Aurors moved back and forth, combing the estate to gather any evidence. None of them dared to question Ryan, apparently he had developed a legend for himself during his exploits over the world. Still, that didn't stop them from sending death glares at him.

Gazing down at his gloved hand, he cupped a falling speck of snow and watched it melt. Ryan's cheek still bled, no one had bothered to tend to him, not that he cared. He could heal the wound himself, but he didn't feel worth it.

_I've just killed my dad!_

Throughout the time Ryan berated himself for killing his father, he never asked himself why Harry had gone berserk.

"Ryan?" Albus called. He was attired in warm casual clothing; jeans, sneakers, jumper and a windbreaker jacket. Juxtaposed alongside his brother who wore a conservative suit, the two looked like one man but in different stages of his life. Shockingly enough, Ryan looked like the older one.

Even though Ryan was the tallest one in his family, they still treated him like a baby. Oh the irony of it all. Albus was about two inches shorter than his younger brother, but that didn't stop them from sharing a close bond.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Albus said as he sat down next to Ryan. The youngest Potter could tell that his older brother was weeping, but not bitterly like Lily. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears, but not a single drop had streaked down his cheek.

"I just killed dad," Ryan muttered.

"I saw it," Albus said, "he put me in a body-binding curse."

"I could have knocked him out," Ryan rambled, "but instead, I killed him."

"It was the heat of the moment," Albus tried to comfort his younger brother, "it's not like it could've been different."

"But it could have!" Ryan cried, "I was too hasty to pull the fucking trigger, and now he's dead!"

"I know how it feels," Albus said, "it's happened to me before."

Albus worked as an Auror, and by the looks of things, he's going to be the next Director.

Ryan gazed back down to the snow again, and dug his shoes into the fine powder. He felt so robbed. He had given everything, and yet, he lost his father.

"How could you?" Lily screeched as she rushed out of the front door. Ryan stood up and turned around, only to receive a powerful slap to his face. His head jolted violently to the left, before slowing twisting back.

Lily didn't bother to wipe the blood away from her hands as she continued on her verbal attack. "You rarely visit! And the first time I see you in two years, you killed Dad!"

"You haven't changed much," Ryan said softly.

His sister had grown into a beautiful woman, her red hair and green eyes seemed to add more to her furious effect.

Lily slapped Ryan again, this time across the left cheek. Years of training and experience would've made it easy for Ryan to either block or dodge his sister's hand. But he stood his ground, willing to accept whatever punishment his family deemed necessary.

"Lily, enough!" Albus barked.

"You don't care that our father's dead?"

Albus looked hurt at that statement, "Don't let your anger get the better of you! You know that Ryan had no choice."

"He didn't need to kill him!" Lily cried.

"Dad would've killed us all, if it wasn't for Ryan and Aunt Hermione," Albus reasoned.

The front door opened again, this time it was James. His eyes burned with anger as they locked onto Ryan. "You bastard," he muttered.

Ryan just stood still, like a deer caught in a car's headlights as his eldest brother slammed into him. The two of them crashed into the snow, creating a small trench, before James pulled himself up and started raining down punches on Ryan's face. The youngest Potter made no move to retaliate nor protect himself.

The shock of Harry's death had finally worn off, now all that was left was either cold logic or misplaced anger.

"Get off him!" Albus yelled as he pulled James of Ryan.

Ron stepped in to hold James back. He had been out in the back. When he heard Lily shouting, he ran as fast as he could to the front.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Albus roared. "If it wasn't for Ryan, we'd all be dead."

"He killed dad!" Lily screamed.

"Dad was out of control," Albus reasoned.

Hermione quickly arrived, the anti-appiration wards had stopped from Apparating to the front porch, as she had been talking with the Aurors inside the house. She ran over to Ryan and with a quick flick of her wand, she healed his wounds.

"Everyone, calm down," she said in her no-nonsense tone. "We're all in shock because of what happened, but that doesn't mean we turn on each other."

"It's okay," Ryan said, "I won't hold them to it. I'll gladly accept any punishment you wish."

"Good," James spat, "as Head of House, you're no longer part of the Potter family."

And with that statement, the air around the siblings hissed and cracked, before the Potter Crest appeared atop Ryan's head, and crumbled. Under magical law, Ryan was no longer a Potter.

"As you wish, Mr Potter," Ryan said solemnly. And with that, he began walking back to the limits of the estate to apparate away.

"You insufferable child!" Hermione hissed at James, with a quick deft motion, Hermione's fist rammed into James's jaw, sending him onto the snow. "How could you do that to him? Do you know what he's been through?"

Not even giving the shell-shocked Potter siblings a chance to answer, Hermione spoke a quick word to Albus, telling him to remain behind, while she chased after Ryan.

"I can't believe you would do that to him," Albus growled. "He saved our lives, and this is the thanks he gets."

James and Lily's expression softened as they realised the magnitude of the events that had just unfolded.

"I hope you're happy," Albus muttered.

Lily broke down into tears as she realised that she had pushed her distant brother too far.

…

Ryan drove his car past the Leaky Cauldron, and towards Westminster. Pulling up into a driveway, he took out his luggage bag, and let the valet handle the rest as he entered the foyer. His bag glided silently behind his polished shoes as he strode across the marble floor.

The hotel definitely had a very high level of class to it, low hanging chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling, illuminating the cream coloured walls and mahogany pillars.

"Hello sir, how may I help you?" A woman at the concierge greeted

"I'd like a Park Suite, please," Ryan answered.

"Certainly."

Ryan filled out the required details, before leaving for his room. The money his father gave him, and the salary he earned, was far more than enough for him to afford a Presidential Suite, but there was no need. Ryan could easily afford the playboy lifestyle for the rest of his life, albeit, it wasn't his style. He had committed himself to a world that few would understand, and leaving it would result in a hollowness feeling.

Sliding his keycard across the lock, Ryan pushed the door open, and was welcomed by an entry foyer, with a wide flat screen TV and lounge.

Moving into the room, Ryan decided to unpack his things and performed the ritual that had been ingrained into him through training. First he combed through every square inch of the room for any bugs. Next he assessed any security threats, and finally, he set up his defences.

He placed motion sensors around the room, and synced them up to his phone which also doubled as an OPSAT tacpad. Then, he casted all the defensive wards that he had learnt, before turning on the TV. An episode of the Simpsons was on right now, but he paid no attention to it.

Ryan slid his jacket off and hung it behind the desk chair. He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, undid his top button and loosened his top button as he prepared to disassemble his pistol. He laid out the weapon components across the glass table, and cleaned each one manually. He just didn't feel like using magic this time.

But as he cleaned the barrel, his hands began to shake and drop the instrument. Tears began to streak down Ryan's face as he silently wept.

"I killed him," Ryan repeated. "I killed him."

A knock on the door brought him out of his depressed stupor. He glanced at his phone, and learnt that it was Hermione at the door. Lifting himself up from the chair, Ryan opened the door to let the brunette witch in.

"I know you wanted to be found," Hermione said, answering Ryan's unvoiced question, "You're not that hard to find."

The two sat down on the couch, where Hermione enveloped the closest thing she had to a son, in a motherly hug. Ryan began to weep again, years of stress and the death of his father at his hands had finally broken him.

"Shhh," Hermione hushed, "everything is going to be okay."

Her voice began to grow hoarse and break, she was starting to cry too. "Everything i-is going to be-o-okay. Albus still loves you, and I'm sure your mother does too."

"What happened to dad?" Ryan whispered.

"They've already taken him to have an autopsy. They Aurors and healers on seen could find out what was wrong with him."

"I killed him didn't I? And in doing so, I destroyed my family."

"Hush," Hermione began to rock Ryan back and forth, "don't do that to yourself. You're so much like your father, you know that? Where ever he is now, I'm sure he's proud of you."

"When I see him again, I will beg for his forgiveness," Ryan said.

"There's going to be a hearing for your father's will tomorrow."

"I'll be there."

**XXxxXX**

**A/N: Short, I know. But it's to show you that I aim on finishing this.**

**Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you all for your kind words… now;**

**Sarah J Rose**

**Your message has left me in quite a predicament… so you know what, I'm going to play the "ambiguous mystery plot device card" here, in order to keep everyone happy.  
But thank you for bringing those things to my attention. I usually read the oneshots and adventure stories so I wasn't too sure on what is cliché and what isn't in this fandom. **

**XXxxXX**

**2035**

**Westminster, London  
Redwell Plaza**

Hermione had always been an early riser, earlier than Ryan. Having this trait instilled to her since childhood had always allowed her to pick up on the nuances of people's morning routine. She quickly draped a night robe around her shoulders before going to check up on Ryan. As she opened the door however, she was surprised to see his bed empty, and devoid of any blankets.

Moving around to the other side of the bed, she found her nephew sleeping on the floor, in a supine position.

"I know you're awake," she said.

A small smile curled upon Ryan's lips, as he sat up. Most of the Potter men went to bed shirtless. But Ryan had always been different; he seemed to have that trait distilled in many boys that were raised in a _disciplined _and _professional_ society. He wore a t-shirt and shorts to bed in summer, while wearing warmer clothes in winter.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" Hermione asked.

"Habit," Ryan replied.

Hermione's heart twinged. _What kind of habit is that?_ She wondered. She understood that the life an Auror could get very dangerous, but never, had she come across an Auror who regretted their actions or slept on the floor.

"Can I ask why?"

"When you're sleeping, the first thing your attack would shoot at would be the bed," Ryan explained.

"And you didn't tell me this why?" Hermione said with a playful tone, trying to lighten the mood.

"Didn't want you losing any sleep over it, besides, Death Eaters aren't exactly known for the stealth."

"Right. You know you're paranoid."

"Sleeping on the floor has saved my life three times already."

Hermione soon began to understand the dark nature that Ryan lived in. Luxuries and comforts became pseudo shields, and family is a reminder that the blissful ignorance is forever out of reach.

Ryan's phone began to chime again; he picked up the device from his nightstand, and checked the security cameras.

The woman who appeared on screen was about his age, if not slightly older, and wore a black business suit and a long skirt. Her dark copper brown hair with highlights in a ponytail, her eyes were of a piercing blue. She had high cheekbones and a high forehead, by many standards, she was considered strikingly attractive.

"Figures that she'd come here," Ryan muttered.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked.

"Colleague from work."

"Does she sleep on the floor?"

"I wouldn't think so," Ryan answered cryptically.

The youngest Potter (excluding his nephew) walked towards the white doors, and parted them open.

"Abigail," Ryan smiled warmly, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to?"

"I came as soon as I heard," Abigail said softly as she entered the room, her voice was silky smooth; it reminded Ryan of a very talented voice actress. "Fei is worried about you."

"You can tell him I'm fine," Ryan said as he sat down at the dining table.

"You're not fine," Abigail said sternly, sitting down next to him, "you just killed your father."

Ryan sat quietly.

"Ryan, I'm sorry…" Abigail trailed off, "someone else is here."

"My aunt, Hermione Granger," Ryan said.

"Ah, the smartest witch of the ages. Best role model for teen girls. Seriously, the Daily Prophet should go die in a hole."

"Oh, so you do read it then?"

"Someone's got to learn how they think."

About this time, Hermione came into the dining room, wearing a set of black business attire. She had her hair tied up in a bun, and frameless glasses perched upon her nose.

"Miss Granger," Abigail said politely, "I'm Abigail Palmer, here to look into the recent events that have transpired."

"So you're going to be joining us into Diagon Alley then."

"Maybe," Abigail replied, "I was sent here to mainly keep an eye on Ryan."

"Well, meeting is in an hour, we should get going."

Like a well-rehearsed routine, Ryan gathered all of his equipment and stored them in his enchanted bag. Heading down to reception, he checked out and paid his bill.

The drive to the Leaking Cauldron was done in a comfortable silence, though the three were dreading on what awaited Ryan on the other side.

Pulling the Audi into a parking space, Ryan left the engine running as he got out of the vehicle. He opened the door for Hermione and handed her, her bags.

She accepted her bag and headed towards the door, but realised Ryan or Abigail weren't following her.

"Aren't you coming?" Hermione asked.

Ryan shook his head, "tell Mister Potter, that Mister Stanforth is unable to attend the reading of Harry James Potter's Will."

A tear slowly ran down Hermione's cheek. "Ryan please."

"I'm sorry, but going to that reading, is just another painful reminder."

"Alright, I'll tell James."

"Thank you aunty."

With that, Hermione left.

"Potter, this morning, your mother checked out of St Mungos," Abigail said, "we have reason to believe that she's running."

"Doesn't matter, Palmer," Ryan said, "we're going to Heathrow. I need to see Fei personally."

Ryan backed the Audi out of the parking spot and pulled back onto the avenue. He looked into the sky shrouded in darkened clouds. There was something wrong with the grey shroud, it looked like as if they were seems of blackness in it.

Abigail's phone began to chime; she quickly pulled it out of her concealed pocket and checked the message.

"Oh my god," was all she could mutter.

What followed after could only be described as hell on Earth.

**XXxxXX**

**A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging, but this is to show that I haven't abandoned this project. Next chapter should be out in a few days**

**Regards**

**-Andrithir**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello and I'm back.**

**XXxxXX**

"_Alabastrites, (Strites) are unknown entities that we have encountered across multiple theatres of war against cult factions. The main defining point of these things, are their onyx black skins and 'soulless' white eyes._

_Crawler:__ The mainstay of Strite archetypes. As their name suggests, they make a blood-curling like hiss when they enter a bloodlust.  
They are humanoid in size and shape, and possess similar human physical abilities. However, they can climb on seamless surfaces; large bodies of water are the only environmental factor that can stop them.  
It should be noted that they possess more intelligence than the Inferius, as they display wolf-like behaviour in packs.  
Their preferred method of attack is to quickly incapacitate their prey with punches before ripping them apart with fangs._

_Stalker:__ Similar in size to the Crawler, the Stalker however, is faster, smarter and stronger. They barely make any sound at all. Their claws are capable of scratching through steel.  
The main defining feature of Stalkers is that they have no fangs. However, their claws are coated in a poisonous resin that renders magical treatment useless._

_Banshee:__ They are the aerial and ranged units of the Alabstrites. Their appearance could be described as a demonic angel.  
They attack by hurling bolts of energy at their target before swooping in to pluck their prey off from the ground. Their screams do not have any physiological effect, but the psychological damage is undeniable._

_Marauders:__ Undeniably one of the more fearsome archetypes. Standing at an imposing nine feet tall, their general appearance is reminiscent of the most heavily armoured Teutonic Knights. They hurl red energy balls with a wide area-of-effect, which knocks down their target. After launching three salvos, they will move in to kill their enemy with halberds, claymore swords, war hammers or battle axes. Some Marauders do wield shields.  
In combat, they barely make a sound, aside from their heavy foot falls._

_Moorwen:__ A creature that is the size of a megalodon, they look like a demonic hybrid of a bull and a lizard. Their neural pathways glow red when they prepare to launch tendrils of energy to scythe through their prey.  
__Heavy__: The loose term used to apply to miscellaneous and uncategorised Alabastrites."  
__**-Field Report on Alabastrites**_

**XXxxXX**

**LONDON, ENGLAND, 2035**

"Incoming!" Abigail yelled.

A banshee swooped in low over the highway and unleashed a torrent of energy onto traffic. Cars and trucks were licked up by hungry flames and tossed about like toys. Ryan swore as he threw the car into a turn to avoid a rolling truck, hurling its goods onto the icy road.

Palmer interfaced with the Audi's HUD and zoomed in on the seething horde of onyx black. Her blood ran cold as she recognised the symbol.

"The Death Mark," she breathed. "But that's impossible!"

The Operative braced herself as Ryan through the Audi into a violent swerve. Rolling the windows down, he casted a kinetic attack and smashed the dividers. With the way clear, he weaved through traffic and headed back to Westminster.

"Shit, Ryan, going back there is suicide!" Abigail warned.

"Duly noted," Ryan said neutrally, "want me to drop you off?"

"I didn't fly twelve hours just to see you get killed," she replied.

Deathly cries filled the air as a black tide surged over _everything_. Ryan slammed the pedal down and coursed through traffic. The car bounced up and down as it ran over the Crawlers, the windshield cracked as one smashed into the glass.

"The hell are we going to get through this," Abigail cussed.

Palmer was of an Elven background, a cussing elf usually signified the gravity of the situation, something Ryan was partially blind to as he was solely focused on his family.

Family cars were overturned; trucks were raided as the hordes claimed them. It was impossible to tell from which direction the Alabastrites were attacking from.

"Abigail, keep them off us!"

The elf nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her _human_ ears. She drew her sidearm, rolled down the window and began firing. Her superb accuracy helped keep the Strites at bay.

Ryan pulled the Audi off the highway and into London centre. Everywhere there were people running, everywhere there were people being torn to shreds. Shattered glass rained down from the skyscrapers and littered the road.

"Look out!" Abigail pointed.

The youngest Potter turned to his right just in time to see a semi-trailer smash into his car door. He barely managed to throw up a shield as the Audi's metal frame began to warp. The heavier vehicle ploughed the lighter down the road, leaving a trail of burning rubber, until it came to a screeching halt inside a book store.

"Ryan, anything broken?" Abigail asked. She hadn't taken the brunt of damage so she was relatively fine.

"I'm fine," the Operative gasped. He glanced down at his OPSAT display, tucked away in the hidden compartment inside his watch. Looking at the map, he knew he was about a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron.

Knowing that her current attire was not suited for the situation, Palmer quickly transfigured her skirt into matching pants, and her shoes into flat-soles. The elf wrenched the door open, and was greeted by a crawler, snarling at her viciously. But before it could make a move, Abigail fired three rounds into its head, ending the onyx creature.

"I've got two rifles in the boot," Ryan said as he pushed the damaged windshield aside and crawled out over the bonnet. He quickly raised his pistol at the semi-trailer, but seeing the warped and melted cabin, he realised that the driver had been killed sometime before.

Abigail moved to the back of the Audi, stepping over a few fallen bookshelves to get there. Ryan could tell that she was unnerved by the screaming and pleas for help that came from outside. The elf wrenched the boot open and selected the weapon drawer. A soft hiss alerted her that the locks had been disengaged, allowing the tray to slide out.

Held in position by foam, were two SC4500 Assault Rifles, both of which had been modified with optics and gripods for easier handling. The magazines the weapons used were specially designed with a 'bottomless' compartment, allowing them to carry far more rounds than the standard issue. Feather-weight charms had been combined with the weapons to reduce weight and increase user mobility by a large margin.

Palmer slid her pistol back into her holster before picking up the deep grey bullpup rifle. She quickly adjusted a few settings and then tossed Ryan the other SC4500. Satisfied that they were well equipped, the two stepped back out into the winter snow, soaked in blood.

Ryan took a deep breath as he compartmentalised the carnage that lay around him. He had fought against the Alabastrites before, but none of those engagements were full blown battles, just light skirmishes in some rural area. People were running around scared, cars were crashing into one another and police officers were having a hard time protecting the civillians.

"This way!" Ryan called to Abigail.

The two moved closely along the walls while firing an occasional shot to kill any Strites in their way. So far it was only Banshees and Crawlers in the attack, something that Ryan was grateful for. He really didn't want to run into a Marauder or Moorwen right now.

Swinging around a corner, Ryan fired a quick burst that found its mark in a Crawler's neck, blowing its head cleanly off and coating the snow with red.

"I'm getting no response from the contingency teams," Abigail whispered as they closed in on the bar.

"That's because they can't," Ryan added.

The bodies were in full armour, or what was left of it. It was evident that the Operators had been overwhelmed by Crawlers. They lay in the snow, their blood frozen. But there weapons were nowhere to be seen; Ryan assumed that passer-bys had policed the weapons to defend themselves.

"Strites are going to be on top of us soon," Ryan said, noticing the dwindling screams and resistances of men.

"Then let's be quick," Abigail breathed.

Reaching the Leaky Cauldron, Ryan used his Augmented Reality abilities to scan the bar. It was an Elven ability, as it picked up on magical signatures in order to form a clear and comprehensive scope. Ryan quickly fired a burst into the door hinges and smashed down the barrier, only to swear once he saw what awaited him.

He berated himself for forgetting such a crucial fact. Alabastrites were magical blackbodies, they don't give off a magical signature, and the only way to detect them is to juxtapose them with a magical background. The Leaky Cauldron being a magical bar was fitted with magical signature annulment wards, rendering the Strites invisible to the heightened senses.

The closest Crawler was turned to chum as Abigail pulled the trigger. Armour piercing rounds sped swiftly and silently down range. The bullets were bewitched to pack both cutting and bludgeoning hexes to create maximum damage to soft targets, while coated in a sound annulment charm to reduce a sound signature.

The Crawler gave a loud blood curling sound as its chest was torn asunder, the one standing behind the first fared no better as the bewitched elements of the rounds remained in effect until the bullet stopped moving.

Fiery cobalt blue and deep violet tendrils wrapped around Ryan's body as he tapped into his magical core. A glassy whip shot out from his arm and lashed out at a Crawler in the far corner, the tip of the _limb_ plunged into the Strite's throat, before ripping its head off violently.

Using his telekinesis like abilities, the Operative picked up a table and used it to crush the remaining Crawler to death. Checking that the area was clear, Ryan moved towards the bar, and leaned over to check if anyone was there. He was hit by a pang of sadness when he saw the mangled bodies of the Longbottoms. But he quickly compartmentalized those emotions, and headed into Diagon Alley.

When the brick walls parted, Ryan was greeted by the sights of burning buildings and frantic cries. Witches and Wizards barely managed to stand their ground, they had been taught to duel, but not in the arts of warfare. Some had been desperate enough to caste Fiend Frye Curses to abate the Strite hordes. The youngest Potter could see fiery dragons soar through the ash chocked air, and close in on anything that moved.

"C'mon, we need to get to Gringotts," Ryan gestured.

Abigail nodded, but he noticed the warmth drain from her face, her body seemed to shiver. "Dementors are hear," she said.

High Elves were more susceptible to the Dementors. The reason being is that the Elves were deeply rooted with nature, and the Dementors sucked all the happiness and warmth out of their surroundings. However, Dementors were also more vulnerable to Elven Patronus Charms. Whenever the two factions would clash, the created effect was comparable to water and heat.

The Dark Guards of Azkaban swooped down onto the Alley; Ryan levelled his rifle and squeezed the trigger. He was rewarded by a pained screech and the withering form of the Dark Creature. It wasn't dead, but it wasn't going to get up anytime soon.

Abigal and Ryan fought their way to Gringotts, carving a path through the carnage. Though much to Ryan's horror, the Goblin owned Bank was in ruins. He pressed on while eliminating a few Crawlers and a Banshee that had strayed away from her cadre. The winged creature landed with a resounding thud, dislodging the stone pavement.

Upon entering the destroyed foyer of the bank, Ryan swept his sights back and forth, not wanting to be pounced. He saw a womanly figure slumped against a desk in the far corner, her brown mane was covered in blood, causing Ryan's heart to drop.

"Lumos!" Abigail casted, a silvery tendril leapt out from the elf and spread across the foyer like a vine, illuminating the darkness with a white light.

Ryan quickly ran over to Hermione, his aunty and mother figure. Around her lay two Marauders with their armour warped from her powerful hexes. Under different circumstances he would've been impressed, but there was a gaping wound on Hermione's stomach.

"No, no, no!" he whispered. He reached out to touch her cold hands.

"Ryan?" she mumbled, her voice was weak, she slumped to one side before gazing at her newphew.

Abigail quickly assumed a defensive stance with her gun trained at the entrance. Most of the resistance had died down as anyone who was able, had Apparated away.

"I'm here, aunty," Ryan said, his voice was filled with fear. He pulled an overturned desk in front of his father's best friend, to provide some form of protection should a Strite breach the entrance again.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan," Hermione sobbed.

"It's okay," the youngest Potter whispered, he gently pulled Hermione into his arms and began to utter an ancient Elven spell to help heal grievous injuries. "_Tosilian lothamon ilien sorthen."_

A lance of calming energy leapt from Ryan's palm and onto Hermione's wound, but his worst fears were realised when the spell failed to stop the bleeding.

"Ryan, listen to me," Hermione said, tears streaming down her face. "I tried to save your brothers and sister, but I couldn't. They were…"

Ryan cradled his aunty as sobs wracked her pained body. His siblings were gone, taken by the horde. "Save your strength."

"It's too late for me, Ryan," Hermione's eyelids looked heavy; she began to bow her head forward. Her breathing began to slow to crawl. A saddened expression of despair spread across Ryan's face, he didn't bother to fight back the tear streaming down his cheeks.

"I love you aunty," Ryan whispered, cradling Hermione.

"I love you too, Ryan," Hermione said with a soft smile. Her chest stopped heaving, and her eyes closed.

Ryan winced and closed his eyes, letting a silent sob escape his mouth. He gently rested his head on Hermione's forehead, cradling her lifeless body. She had been the mother figure he had looked up to, a person who was there for him when his father wasn't.

He turned to look at Abigail; the elf had a saddened expression on her face. He looked at her eyes and a saw a flicker of energy; she was using her heightened senses. "Ryan, the Floo still works here."

The Operative nodded, stood up, and gently picked up Hermione. Abigail covered him as they moved towards the fireplace, but so far, the Elf's Corporeal Patronus animals kept the Dementors at bay and the Strites were busy mopping up other resistance groups.

**XXxxXX**

**MINAS ATHALIONOR, ELISIDELL**

Ever since Ryan had arrived at the Elven settlement, the Floo network had been promptly shut down. The High Elves resided in a parallel dimension. It inhabited the same space as Earth, but the moment someone exited the atmosphere of the Elven realm, they would find themselves gazing down on Earth. It was a concept that most found difficult to comprehend, but Ryan understood it the first time round.

In essence, leaving the Elven realm would transport the person to the corresponding location relative to Earth. The only way to get into Elisidell, is via a portal in a cave deep within the Alps. Thankfully, there was an Elvish garrison at the Alps, allowing people to travel their by Floo.

Ryan walked along the bridge that stretched over a river. It was a light crème colour, adorned with beautiful flowers and green bushes. He stopped at the centre and gazed out over the sun kissed harbour-valley. The harbour was for elves who wished to pass into the Afterlife. It was an idea he entertained, leaving this world. But it wasn't that simple, he wouldn't be allowed to leave until he had fulfilled his part.

Abigail soon joined him on the bridge. She was wearing a beautiful white robe that reflected her heritage, and she let her brown hair flow freely. The silk material was suited for the warm climate, and hugged her curves graciously. From the silent footfalls, it was clear that Abigail was barefoot like most Elves. It was an elegant and slightly provocative look and was a wide contrast in comparison to Ryan's attire, polished black dress shoes, navy blue pants that were borderline black, a light blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a blue-silver-red striped tie.

"Ryan, Fei called," Abigail said, her voice laced with sadness.

"What'd he say?" Ryan asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Hammer-Down," Abigail answered, "on a global scale."

"That means…"

"You're the last human," she finished.

Ryan leaned against the age-old railing and breathed. Hammer-Down is a contingency protocol, similar to Scorched-earth, only more extreme. Turning his gaze on the myriad of gold and velvet red leaves, he thought about the magnitude of what had happened.

"The Council would like to talk to you," Abigail continued.

Ryan exhaled, "alright, let's go."

Abigail led him through the houses and buildings in tuned with nature around them. And after a short monorail ride, the two arrived at the Council Hall. It was a tall majestic building, adorned with neatly trimmed vines which complimented its white stone walls and marble pillars. Ryan walked up the polished stone stairs, and onto the courtyard which was adorned with fountains and flower gardens.

An elven secretary with jet black hair and blue eyes walked over to Ryan and Abigail, she was flanked by two armed guards (in modern military gear).

"The Council is ready," she said.

Ryan and Abigail were lead through the maze like building until they arrived at the Council Chambers. It was an assembly area held within a secluded garden.

"Evienar Loril," a male Councillor greeted Abigail by her native name.

"Alres," Palmer bowed. Ryan followed suit.

The Councillors sat in comfortable armchairs and invited the two to sit down. It was a rare gesture of support.

"We are aware of the situation in man's world," Alres said. "There is no doubt that it will affect us in the near future."

"What do you propose," Ryan asked.

Alres turned his gaze to the marble floor, before returning to Ryan. "Our scholars have capitalised on the time dilation flux experienced between both our worlds. They have found a way to reverse time in your world, while keeping ours current."

"Do the normal laws of time travelling apply in this method?" Ryan asked, shifting in his seat.

"No," Alres shook his head. "By going back through time by this method, you are a time anomaly. Not a paradox. You can directly intervene with your past, creating a merger of timelines. Our scholars believe that becoming a time anomaly halts aging but still allows your mind to evolve."

Ryan grasped the basic concept. This method of time travel will negate any paradoxes, but that mean everything would be in flux. Should he return to an earlier part in the timeline, the immediate history he knew would be different regardless of his actions, or actions yet to be.

Funnily enough, Abigail noted how Ryan having to travel through time was more of an order rather than a choice, regardless, he was more than happy too.

"I accept," Ryan said. The Councillors smiled and leaned back into their chairs with relief. "But what year will I be sent to."

"Unknown," Alres consoled, "that is another _flaw_."

…

Ryan stood in a secluded garden overlooking the bay. Everything had finally caught up to him. The sun had dipped just over the mountains as he laid a wreath over Hermione's coffin. It was a small private funeral.

He exhaled an air of sadness as tears streamed down his cheeks. He rarely cried, mental conditioning and training made him capable of suppressing human emotions, but this time he _chose_ to let it all out. Let all the years of horror, guilt and unending sadness flow from him.

"Ryan?" it was Abigail. She was still dressed in the same robes, except this time there were additional components that gave it a graceful, ceremonial touch to it.

The quickly wiped away his tears and threw on a stern expression before he turned around to face her.

"You don't need to do that," she said softly, and walked within arm's reach of him.

"Do what?" Ryan asked.

Abigail placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It seemed to unlock something inside of him. He bowed his head down, closing his eyes while letting the tears flow again. He hated revealing his vulnerability. But a small part of him _chose _to do so.

The elf stepped closer and pulled him into a warm embrace. She could tell Ryan needed a lot of comfort and support right now. If he was anything like his father, he needed someone who could be his pillar of support.

Ryan stood still at first, until he allowed himself to breathe in her sweet scent of pine and aloe vera. He wrapped his arms around her, while bury his head into her shoulder. They stood there for a while, letting him release his pent up anguish.

Like all High Elves, Abigail could sense the emotional aurora of a person, and what Ryan emitted was a bottomless pool of sadness. He had lost his father, his mentor, his mother, his _mum_, everyone… but her.

Abigail led him over to a nearby pond; she could see the souls of the fallen standing on the water surface. They were all waving to Ryan… and Hermione. The Elf knew that the youngest Potter couldn't see them. The only way a man could see the souls of the dead was when he had fulfilled his part and was ready to pass into the Afterlife. It was almost painful for her to watch as Ryan raised his hand to touch Harry's.

Ryan knew his father was there, but he couldn't see him, hear him or feel him. He just knew his father was standing in front of him. He had his hand outstretched, palm facing outward. He had a feeling his father would be doing the same.

To Abigail, it was like watching a mirror, but since the spirits weren't corporeal, Ryan's right hand gently phased in and out of Harry's. Though there were a few major differences that Palmer noted. Ryan was taller; he had an older expression and a slimmer face. He still bore an uncanny resemblance to his father – and the man standing behind him, whom she assumed to be James Potter.

There was a reverse in roles and age. Ryan being the youngest looked the oldest, while James being the oldest looked the youngest. It was like some kind of sick joke.

Eventually, a bushy maned woman walked up to Ryan from behind, and planted a kiss on his right temple, before joining the others on the lack. Hermione gave Harry a warm hug.

"Are they happy?" Ryan asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yes," Abigail said, "but not content."

Ryan still hadn't torn his gaze from where he assumed his father would be. "I'm sorry," he said, begging for forgiveness.

…

Ryan stood in front of the portal, dressed in the same livery as the day before, except this time, he wore tailored pants with discreetly larger pockets, and a shirt with an invisible extension pocket under his arm. Abigail stood next to him wearing a grey business suit with pants and flat soled shoes, and a white coat draped over her arm, her clothing had similar alterations to Ryan.

Beside them was a car exactly like the Audi A10 2035 Series Ryan drove back in England. Except this time, the Elves took the liberty of heavily customising everything and added additional compartments with undetectable extension charms.

"You don't have to come with me," Ryan said to Abigail quietly. A few of the technicians moved around to hand them additional equipment.

"Someone's got to keep an eye out for you," Abigail said, trying to lighten up the mood.

An elf handed Ryan a digital watch which held an extension compartment over his wrist, containing a monomolecular blade – perfect for discreet kills. He also gave Ryan and Abigail extension bags that fits inside pockets and self-moulded themselves into shape. That way, the two could draw anything they wanted by reaching into their pockets.

"May the spirits guide you," Alres said, before allowing the two to enter the car. "When the time comes, you will have our support."

"Thank you," Ryan bowed.

Easing himself into the driver's seat and then closing the door, Ryan started up the engines. A soft click alerted him to the fact that he hadn't put in his seatbelt. He mentally scolded himself for forgetting such a simple but undeniably crucial task.

"Ready," Abigail said.

Without a word, Ryan pressed down on the accelerator.

**XXxxXX**

"_This isn't a fight ordinary humans can win. The Stonebriar Program is aimed at producing the finest Operatives to protect our interests in both magical and non-magical worlds."  
__**-Director Noah Wilson**_

**XXxxXX**

**A/N:**

**So there we are, a longer chapter and it is now bridging back.**

**If you guys didn't understand certain things, this is what I meant.  
The "new" method of time travel punches the traveller into the time stream, this punch causes changes in the immediate past, rendering known immediate history slightly out of calibration. It also negates the Time Traveller's Paradox as the time traveller becomes an anomaly.**

**I got inspirations (and references) from the following:  
Lord of the Rings  
Splinter Cell  
Bourne  
Castle Series (Stick animation shorts – really good, I recommend you look into it)  
Warhammer (Mainly the image of the Marauders)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**XXxxXX**

**LONDON, ENGLAND, 1993 – Third year**

Abigail brought up the console inside the car and entered in a few commands to make the car inconspicuous. Anyone looking at the vehicle would assume that it was a company prototype and think no more of it.

The night was dark, and the road was filled with little traffic, the Elf found her companion to be deep in thought. It was no surprise to her of course; everything that had recently happened was a bit too much of a coincidence.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Palmer asked.

Ryan steadied the steering wheel as he overtook a family van. "Dark Mark appears over London, right before the Strites attack. Strites have never attacked in force like that before."

"You're suggesting that a Death Eater initiated the attack?" Abigail asked, turning her head back to the console to read reports.

"I know Death Eaters aren't that powerful when Voldemort fell," Ryan sighed, "but what if, Voldemort was never really killed?"

"You mean he played us all?" the Elf asked with a worried tone. "God I hope you're wrong."

"Same here," Ryan concurred. "I analysed his psychological profile, and no offence to my father, but how the hell does a Dark Lord get defeated by a schoolboy with little combat experience?"

"I agree," Palmer said, bringing up the aftermath report of the Hammer-Down. "I call bullshit on the prophecy."

"His profile suggests that he's a sadistic psychopath," Ryan continued, "his mannerisms displayed borderline schizophrenic tendencies."

"So, his goal was never predictable."

Ryan nodded, "exactly. He was never logical in our sense. He pretended to be arrogant, but truth is, he's meticulous and rational."

"An insane genius."

"Everything he had done could've been a ruse," Ryan continued. He had gone on less information to bring down the most intricate rogue cells. Figuring out Voldemort wasn't much of a stretch for him.

"Doing things because he can," Abigail added.

"He can't be reasoned with. At a young age, he displayed near genius intellect and sadistic tendencies."

"He just wants to watch the world burn, with him at the helm," Palmer concluded.

Ryan took a deep breath in as he nodded. Voldemort had plenty of opportunities to bring Britain's Wizarding to his knees. But he never capitalised on them. He knew he could take on the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't, why? Voldemort was aware of contingency plans created by the world's government. Should the Ministry fall, there would be no incentive to keep the Secret society around.

The youngest Potter knew that because of the Cold War, Intelligence Groups had been busy rooting each other out, rather than put an end to the rising Dark Lord. By the time the war had reached its end, there weren't that many Operatives left. And because of Voldemort's supposed death, the magical world was no longer a priority in government interests.

"The Elves have contacts here to provide us with identities," Abigail said.

"Where?"

"Westminster."

Lapsing into another comfortable silence as Ryan navigated their way through the London streets. He gave another sigh, it served as clear indicator that he had not gotten over the death of his father. The vibrant christmas lights of the city centre, and the sight of parliament, gave a false sense of security. Young couples were out enjoying the Friday evening.

It was a painful reminder to Ryan that this was something he could never have.

"Pull up here," Abigail said, pointing to a free parking spot.

Ryan eased the Audi into a halt before turning off the engine. Undoing the seatbelt, he opened the door, and walked around onto the snow covered pavement. His eyes gazed over the English apartments, looking for possible routes of unconventional entries.

"Wait here, I'll go grab the documents," Abigail said, buttoning up her jacket and putting on a white beanie before entering the building.

Ryan paced back and forth near the car, it was a strenuous wait that he didn't notice someone was coming until they had bumped into him.

"Oof, my apologise," said a man.

The Operative mentally berated himself for having lost focus. Things like this weren't supposed to happen. Ryan was always ware enough not to let people bump into him.

Shaking his head slightly to clear up his vision, Ryan's heart skipped a beat as he was staring at a near-spitting image of himself. There were a few differences of course. One, the man had a cleft chin whereas Ryan did not. Two, he wore rimmed glasses, Ryan's eyes were perfect. Three, the man had a light stubble and a wide jaw, Ryan's face was clearly shaven and his jaw was narrower. Fourth was the hairstyle, the man was comb over, whereas Ryan was crew cut. Fifth were the eyes, the man had hazel, while Ryan was luminous blue. Aside those differences, passer-by's generally assumed that the two men were brothers, with Ryan being the eldest.

Turning his gaze to the family accompanying the man, Ryan's heart thumped all the more louder in his chest. There was a well-built teen wearing rectangular framed glasses, emerald green eyes and jet black hair, only his neatly trimmed cut stopped his hair from becoming a messy mop. On his forehead, was the unmistakeable lightning bolt scar.

_Dad… Harry_.

Next to him was a girl with hazel eyes and a bushy mane, it was much more tame than her younger years, as it had softened and curled a bit.

_Hermione… Aunty Hermione… my godmother._

Standing next to the man Ryan had bumped into, was a beautiful woman with red hair and calming green eyes. She had air of protective fierceness and a kind-hearted nature.

_Lily? This woman – shit, she looks just like mum… almost._

Behind the two teens stood two people Ryan recognised, they were Hermione's parents. He had met them a few times at Christmas dinners, very warm, kind people. The woman, whom he identified as Emma, looked exactly as he remembered, albeit younger with a suppleness of youth still with her. She had brown hair that held the tell-tale signs of it being once untamed, green eyes, and a striking complexion that caught the gaze of men. Her husband, Richard Granger looked like the generic dentist, neatly cut hair and a calm expression. He exuded a sense of clarity and rationality. But upon closer inspection of the man, Ryan noticed something he never noticed before. Richard had a gaunt look in his eyes, the mile long stare. It was unmistakable… Richard was once a spook. Only people like that could bury their pasts so well.

Ryan suddenly feared that he could be compromised. Spooks always had an innate ability to identify one another. Small mannerisms and little nuances usually gave Operatives away to each other… unless of course they were espionage. When Ryan was transferred for Field work, he wasn't trained to be a spy, he wasn't trained for espionage. He was trained to be a hunter, a killer, an assassin.

"No harm done," Ryan responded kindly. His analysis of the group only took him a second; the feat was a testament to his training and his ever working mind.

"Are you alright?" the Operative asked, straightening his tie.

"Fine, thank you," James said.

"Ryan!" Abigail called. "Let's go."

The family seemed to be in slight shock looking at the uncanny resemblance of James. Ryan cleared his throat before stepping out of the way and allowing them to pass. They were dressed up in smart casual clothing; evidently they were going out for dinner someplace nice.

Ryan's eyes trailed after the two families as they walked down the avenue, weaving through other families. Abigail walked over to him, threw a quick glance at the departing group and then returned her gaze back to him.

"Damn," the Elf muttered.

"Yeah," Ryan responded numbly.

There was a clear explanation to it all. The method of time travel turned Ryan (though Abigail – not so much), a time anomaly. Being a time anomaly would halt his ageing but it also made him an independent variable when travelling back through time. His presence in history would alter the immediately known history as the time travelling method that the Elves used, considered time to be a pond, rather than a streamline. Nonetheless, the fact that Ryan's grandparents were alive and well was shocking.

"C'mon, let's go," Abigail beckoned.

Getting back into the car again, Ryan started up the engines and pulled out of the parking spot.

"So, you know how you want to keep an eye out on your dad without raising suspicion?" Palmer began.

"How?"

"We become teachers at Hogwarts."

**XXxxXX**

**A/N: I am fully aware of how short this chapter is. But I like to illiterate that I write chapters per event, not words per chapter.**

**Anyway, please review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I've made a slight error that I will address later. I mentioned an Audi A10 in chp4… it supposed to be A9.**

**XXxxXX**

"_Honestly, I don't want to know what my Animagus form is. I'm a spook, the worst and best humanity has to offer, all rolled into one person. What animal holds up to those traits… other than a human?"  
__**-Ryan Samuel Potter, to David Qin Fei**_

**XXxxXX**

**LONDON, ENGLAND, 1993 – (Christmas, 3****rd**** Year)**

Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Saviour of the Wizarding World… who wouldn't want this type of attention? A humble and modest person of course. Harry never liked his fame; it came with too many strings attached. Many just wanted to be his friend because of his fame and money. So of course when Harry became friends with Hermione, he was undoubtedly grateful. Sure the Weasely family was fun to be around with, but Harry never had someone he could be totally honest and blunt with, someone he could confide in fully. His younger sister (in second year) came close as a confidant but she wasn't someone Harry would actively seek out. Neville and Luna came close in the support department, but they weren't quite there either, likewise with his parents.

But Hermione, she was something else entirely. He could confide in her as she did with him. He knew her flaws and she knew his. In times of danger, they would always find support in one another. And they always moved instinctively. Harry could honestly say that without Hermione, there was a fair chance he wouldn't be alive.

"Earth to Harry," Hermione called, "we're here."

Brought out of deep thought, Harry found himself to be standing in front of the restaurant door, and a faint smile on Hermione's face.

"Sorry," he quickly apologised.

Being his closest friend, Hermione was well versed with Harry's mannerisms, and could tell when he was in deep thought. Though he didn't know it, Hermione found his "deep train of thought mode" adorable.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

Harry looked at his friend. "Just thinking about how quite the year has been."

"Don't jinx it," Hermione said with mock seriousness.

A small smile spread across Harry's lips as he opened the door for her. Entering after Hermione, Harry was greeted by the sight of burgundy walls, deep oak timber furniture, maroon carpet and dimed lights. At a large table in the far corner sat Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Tonks and Emily Potter, all dressed in smart casual clothing.

"Hey everyone!" Lily smiled warmly. James pulled out a chair for her next to Emily, before sitting down next to his wife.

Harry decided to perform a similar gesture for Hermione, but the young witch had already removed her jacket and sat down before he could act. She gave him a quick wink and whispered, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm just being a good best friend," Harry pouted, sitting down.

He always marvelled at how well Hermione knew him. Every nuance, every move, she could accurately guess what he was going to do before he even knew what to do. It was scary, but endearing.

The large group soon began talking animatedly with one another as they waited for the waitress or waiter to arrive.

"Let's play a game," Hermione suggested.

"Okay," Harry said with a light nod.

"Guess who's going to eat what," the witch continued, she reached into the small bottomless bag she always took with her, and produced a ball point pen and a notepad. "Write down who you think is going to eat what."

"You're on," Harry accepted the challenge.

After the orders had been taken, he looked down on the parchment and grinned. He had won… by one point.

"I win!" Harry said in his sing-song voice, "Go pout."

"You knew Lily had to change her diet," Hermione huffed indignantly, "how was I supposed to know?

"You are such a sore loser," Harry teased, giving a light-hearted chuckled.

Hermione scrunched up her face, which he found to be absolutely adorable.

"Prat!" She said, slapping his arm.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped, rubbing the point of impact. "That really hurt."

"Oh suck it up you pansy," Hermione said, raising herself in a dignified manner.

"Children, behave!" Sirius said smugly.

Everyone else had been wrapped up in their own conversation, so when Black made his declaration, all eyes turned on the two teens. Harry and Hermione blushed and shied away from prying eyes.

"Nah, I'm just messing with you," Sirius grinned.

Harry and Hermione sent him a death glare which only survived to make him laugh.

"You can't scare me pup."

Finally the food arrived and the conversations had died down considerably. As always, Hermione was the most meticulous eater, and she ate healthily. Harry noticed that her diet wasn't a fad diet; it was a very well balanced one and she ate regularly. He remembered her mentioning something about _"bodies with minds to match"_. A healthy, athletic body accompanied with a brilliant mind, a good match in anyone's opinion.

"You seem to be enjoying that ice cream… a bit too much there, Hermione," Harry said tactfully.

The young witch shot him a glare.

"Might get a brain freeze," Harry shrugged, quickly recovering from what could have been a fatal error in judgement. "Take it slow."

He gave her a heart-warming smile with a twinkle in his emerald eyes; it seemed to do the trick to allay any _misconceptions_.

When the night ended, the group went their separate ways. Harry was slightly sad to no longer be in close proximity of his best-friend, but he knew he'd see her again on Christmas day. His heart sped just a bit faster when Hermione gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before going off with her parents.

Harry could possibly swear Daniel Granger sending him a death glare before walking away.

"Let's go," Emily shivered, "before I freeze to death."

James quickly wrapped his coat around his daughter and gave her a smile. "Better now?"

"Better," she sighed contently as the group walked back to their car.

Harry pouted. "Hey, how come I don't get the same treatment?"

"Because you're a man," James said with a grin.

"That is sexist," Harry said with a mock frown.

Lily laughed and coddled her son.

"Mummy's boy!" Emily teased.

"Daddy's little princess," Harry countered.

"Life doesn't work that way," James said.

Emily stuck her tongue at her older brother.

Harry allowed himself a soft smile. The year had been kind to him so far, and being with his family made life all the more better.

**XXxxXX**

**7 HOURS AWAY FROM HOGWARTS**

Looking at the GPS System set up by the High Elves, Ryan realised that the next phase of the journey would need to be done on dirt roads he decided to pull over into a vacant rest-stop. Easing on the brakes and turning off the engines, Ryan and Abigail stepped out into the cold winter night.

"Going to transfigure the car?" the Elf asked.

Ryan nodded as the woman stepped back with the stacks of paper in her hand. The papers Abigail got from her Elven contacts were documents pertaining to their cover such as safe houses, finances and a forged history.

Muttering a spell and motioning his hand slowly, the Audi slowly morphed into a sleek and sturdy off-road SUV. As before, people who would see the car, would just gloss over and assume it was a company prototype, only those who have certain objectives that require the vehicle, would see it for what it truly is.

"Hmm, looks nice," Abigail complemented.

Ryan got back into the car, switched on the systems and gunned the engines.

"Roomier too, we should've started with this model," she continued. The Operative shrugged.

"They know we're coming right?"

The SUV pulled back onto the highway, its lights illuminating the spare road.

"I talked to Dumbledore over the Floo, he seems eager for more staff."

"Eager?"

Palmer nodded, "some of the staff will be retiring… and get this, Snape was killed."

Ryan's eyes widened in shock, his father had always spoken highly of the Potions Master. Sure the man had been… _horrid_, but he did make up for it by providing valuable intelligence to the order.

"So, who's becoming the next Potion's teacher?"

"Dumbledore mentioned Slughorn," Abigail frowned, "I swear these people have the weirdest names."

Ryan gave a light chuckle. Seeing an exit on the highway, he steered the vehicle off onto the dirt road. He flicked on the flood lights, illuminating the lush green forests surrounding them.

"So what position are we taking up?"

"I'll be teacher herbology, and you will be teaching muggle studies," Abigail answered.

Ryan sighed, "I hate that term. _Muggle_… it sounds so – derogatory. Anyway, I think my knowledge may be a bit out of synchronisation."

"I totally agree."

"Do you find it a bit odd that we were so quickly accepted?" he asked.

"A bit," Palmer shrugged, "but a lot of the faculty were reaching retiring age. It's just lucky that we had a skill set that these people lack."

Although Ryan felt a bit uneasy about the situation, he couldn't really complain. Maybe luck was finally giving him a hand… _doubtful_.

The drive continued on peacefully, though the pacing had to be slowed down as the road became more uneven. Eventually, the vehicle cleared the forest lands and entered the vast green farmlands.

Abigail began to shift uncomfortably in her seat, her brows furrowed in discomfort. Then, Ryan began to feel his skin stand on end.

"Multiple contacts," the Elf said as she cycled through the vehicle's security systems. The feed showed her the snake-like black mists following them, Death Eaters, four of them. The dark streams soared overhead and splashed onto the wide snow covered road. Black robed figures with skull masks morphed into being.

A blasting curse sailed past the vehicle and impacted onto the stone wall, showering the immediate area with blackened fragments. Ryan quickly pulled the SUV to a halt, knowing full well that trying to run over the assailants would be a waste of time.

_Death Eaters like to play with their "prey"_, was the first shred of information that popped into Ryan's head.

"They shouldn't be too difficult," he said calmly.

Though not many people knew, Ryan harboured a deep hatred of the Death Eaters. Even through to the year 2035, they were still a problem, and in their desperation, they turned to the Alabastrites, unleashing untold horrors in the uncharted corners of the world. He had seen their brutality and sadistic behaviour. Some of his colleagues had snapped after seeing too much of the Death Eaters' handiwork, they snapped and brutally killed the Dark Wizards and Witches with their bare hands. Ryan was close to the breaking point too, instead of killing Death Eaters quickly and efficiently as he had been trained, he resorted to more brutal techniques which took a bit longer.

He hoped that this time, he could repress his darker nature. He had come too far to lose control now. Easing the door open, Ryan stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door behind him, likewise with Abigail.

"You're a bit far from home… muggle," a male Death Eater sneered. In his arrogance, he failed to notice the calm and collective demeanour of the two Operatives.

"Nice special effects there," Ryan taunted as he buttoned up his jacket with his gloved hand, "but aren't you a bit young to be playing wizard at this hour?"

The Death Eaters growled and raised their wands.

"Crucio!" roared the first one.

With glowing blue tendrils wrapping around Ryan's body, he quickly formed a transparent blue shield which easily absorbed the curse and dispersed it throughout the hexagonal pattern. The Death Eaters looked on in shock.

"Surprise," Ryan grinned menacingly.

With a quick flick from both his wrists, two bolts of seething hot energy shot from his palm and slammed home into the two Death Eaters, leaving a trail of wispy blue mist and ozone. The Dark Wizards didn't even get a chance to cry out before the life from their eyes faded.

Abigail used her abilities to pin the remaining Death Eaters in a vice-like grip, before slamming them into the ground. The sickening snap that followed, insured that the Dark Wizards weren't going to be a threat to anyone else.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star, shoulda hit them with the car. Not how I'd imagine our first twenty-four hours being here," Palmer said grimly. "Should we take care of the bodies?"

Ryan looked at his companion and shook his head. "Leave them… as a message. And they would've just dodged the car."

The Elf shrugged and the two got back into the SUV. Ryan started up the engines and continued to Hogwarts. If the weather kept up as is, no one would find the Death Eaters or who killed them until the trail goes… _cold_.

…

Abigail had swapped with Ryan, allowing him some respite as she drove around Hogsmede and towards the majestic Scottish castle. She noticed that her companion had his elbows resting on the window sill, and head supported by his palm. His eyes were staring into the rising sun and his brows were furrowed in deep thought.

"Thoughts?" she asked.

Ryan breathed as if he was going to say something difficult. "Would I be wrong to say that Voldemort put my father under an imperious curse? Or that the Horcux inside him was never destroyed, and Voldemort used it as a means of control?"

The Elf frowned at her friend's ailing mentality. He would never taunt in a fight, he would always get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Ryan _never_ gloated. With every hour passing, he was becoming more agitated. Killing his own father who loved him dearly, and cradling his mother figure as she bled to death, it all left a mark on him.

Palmer was well aware of the things Ryan had done to complete his mission objectives. She was well aware of the manhunts he had personally led during the Linjing Incident. The death of those he loved was like a catalyst that was releasing his pent up pains and horrors. He was obsessed with Voldemort.

"Likely," was all she could say. Abigail served as combat support and logistics for Stonebriar Operatives, which meant she was well versed with their mannerisms and mentality. She knew they didn't like to be lied to. They preferred the blunt, honest and most objective truth.

"If Voldemort really did hate non-magicals, he could've wiped out entire rural areas," Ryan pondered. He hated using the word muggle.

"But wouldn't that have attracted unwanted attention to himself?" Palmer suggested.

"Raids on non-magical events, he's done them before."

"But they were mostly done as a demonstration."

"Exactly," Ryan pointed out. "Demonstration. If he really did hate non-magicals, if he really was a bigot, he would've launched raids around the clock."

"Maybe he's just really smart."

"Yeah, he managed to find a way to control the Strites, and cripple humanity." Ryan paused. "I feel like he's just playing everyone just because he can."

Palmer could see he was going around in circles. Down time was a bane to all Operatives. They needed to occupy themselves, otherwise they would utilise all planes of consciousness to think about anything.

_Sooner we get to Hogwarts, the better_, the Elf concluded.

"Do we have any teams available right now?" Ryan asked.

Abigail pondered for a moment. "Alres said that he would be contacting people to lend us support. What are you planning?"

"Hunt the Horcruxes."

**XXxxXX**

"_Kill all of those bastards! Leave none alive."  
__**-David Qin Fei, ordering the mass execution of Death Eaters during the Linshing Incident**_

**XXxxXX**

**A/N: For the sake of familiarity, I'm just going to call Hermione's parents, Emma and Daniel (Dan) Granger. Hats off to whoever started this in the first place, and I have to ask, why these names? (Not that they're bad or anything, I'm just curious).**

**Also… do I lose man points for being pro-Harmony? If so, it's man points I gladly give up.**

**They say Ron is supposed to be comic relief… so they say. I never really got the impression that he was a funny guy.**

**Quick question, what do you think of Ryan Potter?**

**Alas, please review.**


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